




• .0 








^^0 



oV 







4 o^ 
















































'^..*^ - 
.^^"-. 










.^"^ y'** 



'. ^ 












*/.^< 



"^oV* 



SONGS AND 
SONNETS 



SONGS AND 
SONNETS 

By BURTON HASELTINE 



CHICAGO 
1913 



ii 
i 



E5 



ifEli 



if 



'^ :^-^m7^-T ^ 



©GI,A357146 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

City Nights lo 

Sonnet I2 

I Stood To-day for a Brief Moment's Space 13 

Triolet 14 

Ode 15 

In a Woodland Far Away . . . .20 

Autumn Days 22 

A Tribute 24 

Quatrain 25 

Quatrain 26 

Triolet 27 

In Absence 28 

The Solitude of the Soul . . . .29 

I May Not Speak 30 

Sonnet 31 

The California Lady 32 

Sonnet 33 

To One Who Bade Me Sing . . .34 

Tacoma 35 

Sonnet • . . 36 

Mother and Babe 37 

Ask Not Again 38 

Obscured in Doubt and Sadness . . 39 
A Song in a Woodland . . . .40 

Sonnet 41 

A Twilight Dream 42 

In Memory 45 

I Know Not Why 46 



ii-^' 



G 



OOD friend, for Jesus' sake forbear 
To ''knock" the stuff enclosed here; 
The work it cost me I suppose 
God and no other knows. 



ISJ 



At some, no doubt, your tears will flow, 
At some you'll laugh with glee, — 

I wish to heaven I might know 

At which ones that will be! !§, 

ill 



tr:l 



it:' 



[9] 



CITY NIGHTS 

NOT all the beauty of the summer night 
Is seen in rustic glens and far found 
woodland spaces; 
Beauty there is if one but see aright, 

In urban places. 
Not beauty such as easy idlers view 
In flowery dell or dainty sunset hue, 
But beauty of a sterner, ruder sort, 
Of builded bulk and fiery retort. 
Here glows the crucible wherein is wrought 
The magic of our modern alchemy; 
Here visions with a deepest meaning fraught 
Discerning eyes may see. 

Seen true, those towering masses are not 

dumb, 
Dead hulks of steel and stone; they have 

become 
Sky-shouldering giants that do crowd for 

space. 
Like mighty monsters of some saurian race. 
Surely within yon cumbrous tentacle. 
Slow groaning o'er its task, some life must be; 
Some cosmic impulse, animate, purposeful. 

There struggles to be free. 
Surely some god speaks in that mighty roar; 

[lo] 




m 

Those myriad lights we see ||J 

Are his vast vulcanry ' ' 

Where temples are in building — nay, 'tis 

more, 
'Tis where a million mortals strive and strain, 

With weariness and pain, 
To forge with all its wondrous enginery, 

A nation's destiny! igi 



g! 



[ii] 



SONNET 

MUSING to-night in that strange twi- 
hght zone 
That marks the space 'twixt sleep 
and waking hours, 
Vague thoughts and curious fancies have I 

known, — 
Voices have spoken, — long forgotten flowers 
Have shed their fragrance round me; — even- 
ing bells 
Have rung again their old-time lullabies. — 
Softly I've listened to the lisp that tells 
Where still lakes glisten under starlit skies, 
Or where some ancient hemlock's somber 

gleam 
Is dimly mirrored in some moonlit stream. 

Breathless I wait lest some returning sense 
Shatter the dream to daytime elements — 
Whate'er the breaking day may have in store, 
If these be dreams, God grant I wake no more. 



[12] 



I STOOD TO-DAY FOR A BRIEF 
MOMENTS SPACE 

I STOOD to-day forabrief moment's space 
Within that secret place 
Where Nature dons her queenhest attire 
To greet the dying year. Her robes of fire 
Were tumbled all about; I marveled how 
She spends the golden richness of her dress, 
Casting it of? in seeming wantonness, 
On every bush and bough. 

I saw her forest children rioting 
In garments of her making, — oaks and firs 
In stately gowns of rare embroidering, — 
Maple and birch in gaudy gossamers 
She did bedeck till they did sway and dance 
For very arrogance. 

But while I lingered there, 

One towering oak, magnificent and grand, 

Heeding her stern command 
Which all the woodland family must keep. 
Did doflf his foliage till his limbs were bare. 
To spread a mantle o'er a hillock where 

A flower had gone to sleep. 



[13] 



iti 



TRIOLET 

^^^OME with me and be my love,' 
1 . Shepherds sang and so sing I; 
Softly sighs the wooing dove, 
"Come with me and be my love." 
Sweet all other songs above, 
Purer notes we need not try — 
"Come with me and be my love," 
Shepherds sang and so sing I. 



i!H' 



[14] 



ODE 

At the Grave of a Famous Scientist 

4ND this is how 

A% Earth takes her slow revenge on thee, 
^ -^ oh thou 

Whom once she did allow 
To use her at thy pleasure. Once the highest 
Of her exalted places was for thee, 
Her fairest crown of rarest brilliancy 
Once decked thy brow, 
And now 
How low thy liest. 

The churl of poor renown, 
The humblest dweller in this silent town. 
Thy equal now. 

The rudest swain that toiled with spade or 
plow. 

Aye, and the vulgar clown, 

With leering face 

And hideous grimace. 

Winning his meagre fare with leapings high 

in air 
And aping of the idiot's vacant stare. 
Here in this last abiding place 
Is housed as well as thou. 

[15] 




IB: 






In other days 

The dribbling of Time's moments thou didst 

know 
And, swift or slow, 
Thou in thy fumbling ways 
Couldst count and measure, name 
And number them. But long ago 
The swift, resistless torrent of the years 
O'erwhelmed and buried thee. Thy hopes 

and fears. 
Thy boasted name and fame, 
All share with thee the same 
Inglorious fate. ^ 

I 
Time was when thou couldst call 

Great Nature forth from her most secret place 

And, lifting like a pall 

The veil she wears with all-becoming grace 

To hide her modest face. 

Bid her take heed 

And understand, 

When thou shouldst give command, 

And serve thee at thy need. 

See how thou dost atone 

To her for that short hour of tyranny. 

Mark how the very stone. 

With mosses overgrown, 

[i6] 



Whereon is scrawled the legend one-time 

known - , 

In all the lands, — 

The story of thy great and wondrous deeds, — 
With grim stolidity 
She crushes ruthlessly 
Between her busy fingers to supply 
Food for the daily needs Ml 

Of shrubs and common weeds, 
Compelling even trivial things thereby 
To thus comply, ' ^~ 

And satisfy 
Her whimsical demands. Ig, 

Nay, even the hands 

That, clutching at the mystical retort 

Where burn the eternal flames 

That work her will. 

Vain of their little skill. 

With reckless meddling somehow sought to 

thwart 
The smallest of her aims, 
And the eyes 
That once explored 
The dark recesses where are stored 
Mysterious alkalies 

Wherewith by her laborious enterprise 
She purifies 

[17] 



Her secret hoard, 

She slowly crumbles to the primal dust, 

Which, with the common rust 

And rubbish of her workshop, bye and bye, 

She in her own good way 

Will gather and assay, 

Refine and put to ser\^e as best it may 

Her purpose low or high. 

This, then, thy fate — 

Can this poor service be 

The just fulfillment of thy destiny, — 

To live thy little day 

In constant strife 

With forms and forces strange 

Throughout the range 

Of elemental change. 

And soon or late 

Yield up thy feeble, flickering life 

And thenceforth be but clay ? 

Oh God, shall it not be 

Somewhere within Thy vast Eternity, 

That we, even we, 

The peevish prattlers in Thy Nursery, 

May with larger, clearer vision see 

Thy wondrous Mystery ? 

Give us to sometime know, 

[i8] 



While the long ages flow 

To Time's eternal sea, ^; 

Marked by the rythmic roll pi 

Of cosmic music, that the human soul, p; 

From mortal bondage free, 

Though tremblingly 

And with but feeble art. 

Still plays its humble, necessary part 

In Thy great symphony. 



[19] 



IN A WOODLAND FAR AWAY 

IN a woodland far away 
Where the forest fairies play, 
Strolling dreamily one summer long ago, 
I could hear the distant sound 
Of a brook that with a bound 
Leaped from darkness toward the sunlight's 
golden glow. 



And its music in its bed 
Was as though to me it said. 
With the bubbling of its laughter and its 
song: 
"See me rippling as I run 
Kissing lilies in the sun. 
Hear me chuckling, gurgling, roistering all 
day long. 



"Come with me, thou pensive one; 
Leave the shadows, learn to shun 
Not the green fields and the blossoms by the 
way; 
Youth is fleeting; pleasures fly; 
Storms are coming bye and bye, 
And we'll miss the gladsome sunshine of 
to-day." 

[20] 



-^ 




And the echo of that song 
By the southwind borne along, 

Only now a distant memory appears; 
But the lesson that it told, 
'Mid the meadow's green and gold, 

Sheds a radiance o'er the swiftly flying years. 



[21] 



AUTUMN DAYS 

I WONDER, little playmate, dost thou 
know. 
While thus we romp and roister, hand in 
hand. 
Through all the fairy-land 
Of joyous Summer's golden afterglow. 
That while the forest trees 
In gorgeous panoplies 
Mingle their voices in grand symphonies, 
'Tis but to sadly praise 
The hectic beauty of the dying year. 
To say: " The end is near. 
This brightness but a memory shall appear 
In after days/' 

I wonder dost thou know, when youth is 

glowing, 
And joy, the heart o'erflowing, 
Leaps to the lips to find what vent it may 
In song, 'tis but to say: 
"Love's at its flood to-day. 
To-morrow it will ebb its life away, 
Bewail it as we may." 




[22] 



dmiiumiL 



Oh playmate of the autumn afternoon, 

Though all too soon 

Love's roseate garlands change to somber 

greys, 
Thy God is good to thee; 
As yet thou canst not see 
The after days. 



[23] 



MlninHil MIIHN' T' 



A TRIBUTE p 

SPLENDIDLY heedless whether lost or 
gained ^ ] 

The moment's conflict, he assumes again 
The world old task, by heroes not disdained, 
Of speaking common truths to common men. 

i 

'Mid humming looms, or in the crowded 

mart, 
Or 'neath the stars in some far distant place, i 
His voice needs no declamatory art: — | 

When manhood speaks 'tis heard through 

boundless space. 



[24] 



QUATRAIN 

WE search for Beauty in the starry skies 
And Truth in angel's vesture long to 
greet, 
While Truth walks with us in an humble guise 
And Beauty lays her tribute at our feet. 



[25] 



ijtisasi 



I QUATRAIN 



CHIDE not the vagabond that he hath 
strayed 
Unheeding forth from his ancestral 
hall — 
This good old Earth is but a wandering jade 
And she's the common mother of us all. 



[26] 




TRIOLET 

WHEN Phyllis moves her lips to pray. 
Oh then does Heaven itself draw near ; 
The holiest moment of the day, 
When Phyllis moves her lips to pray. 
Its mystic meaning none can say, 
'Tis far too sweet for mortal ear. — 
When Phyllis moves her lips to pray, 
Oh then does Heaven itself draw near. 



[27J 



^ 



IN ABSENCE 

EACH morn with weary eyes 
I search the sea's far horizon anew, 
While every wind from out the east- 
ern blue 
To all my eager questioning replies 
As if in fond regret: 
" Not yet, ah no, not yet." 

Each evening, when alone 
I wander in the woodland solitude, 
Thinking to soothe my spirit's troubled mood, 
Naught hear I save the forest's echoing 

moan, 
That ever seems to say, 
** Thou art away, — away. " 

Each night, ah love, each night, 

The while a welcome weariness benumbs 

My tired spirit, soft the darkness comes 

To shut the dreary day-world from my sight, 

And sweet, oh sweet to me 

Is slumber, for I dream of thee! 



[28] 



THE SOLITUDE OF THE SOUL 

On Seeing the Statue by Lorado Taft 

CHEERED by no voice of brother or 
of friend 
Shall yearning souls forever onward 
go? 
Shall unavailing tears forever flow 

And eager hands to emptiness extend? 
Hope, canst thou, then, no larger promise 
send? 
And faith, dost thou no other solace 
know 
For weary mortals in a world of woe, 

Than groping blindly thus until the 
end? 

Surely some nobler destiny awaits 

The steadfast soul by circumstance en- 
thralled; 
For spirits by Time's mockeries unappalled, 
Who knows what plan the Master con- 
templates? 
For aching hearts at the long journey's close. 
What blest companionship; who knows, — 
who knows ? 



[29J 



-i&.y^^ 



I MAY NOT SPEAK 

I MAY not speak? Oh then, I pray thee, 
let 
Me silent be, but in thy presence still. 
If any word of mine can bring thee ill, 
My lightest whisper cause thee one regret. 
Then am I mute as marble. I'll forget 
The very name of love, though love shall fill 
My heart to bursting with the poignant 
thrill 
Of its unuttered pain. Oh, keep me yet 
Within thy soul's pure radiance; let 
the years, 
The few short years God gives me from His 
store. 
Be hallowed by thy touch; and if once 
more 
Our souls perchance shall meet in other 
spheres, 
I'll walk again beside thee, silently, 
And ask no higher Heaven than that shall be. 



[30] 



SONNET 

DEAR maid, from out whose laughing 
eyes of blue 
The Springtime speaks and tells the 
welcome story 
Of youth and love and hope, forever new, 
To hearts wherein glad life's midsummer 

glory 
Has paled to autumn's melancholy hue; — 
I look on thee and straight my mortal vision 
Dims in the radiance of a subtler view; 
For, bright illumined by the light elysian 
Of thy presaging sweetness, swift appears, 
With hope and hope's fulfillment richly blent. 
The grand procession of the coming years; 
And crowning all, their fairest ornament. 
Where once the blue-eyed, blushing maiden 

stood. 
Earth's rarest blessing, perfect womanhood. 



[31] 



THE CALIFORNIA LADY 

FROM that far land where the departing 
day 
Plays with the night its marvelous in- 
terlude, 
By some sweet magic thou hast brought away 
The changing charm of evening, many hued — 
Piquant, perplexing, baffling one to say 
Which of thy many selves does most intrude, 
Blending the sweetness of the flowery May 
With hints of Summer's ripening plentitude; 
Smiling, insouciante, turning grave to gay 
Or gay to somber with thy Protean mood, 
The fascinating arts thou dost display 
Are not mere graces known to womanhood ; — 
No mortal thou, but elfin from the wild 
Or sprite thou art, half goddess and half child. 



[32] 



SONNET 

'Man is But a Differentiated Sunbeam." — John Fiske 

'f I ^HOU man," the savant said, "art but 
I a beam 

Of sunlight, moulded thus by cos- 
mic will 
Through nature's subtle alchemy, until, 
Endowed with godlike reason, thou dost 

seem 
Creation's masterpiece." But not the 

gleam 
Of wisdom shining in man's thought and 

will 
Shows best the Master's plan. A purer 

still 

And softer ray glows o'er life's turbid 

stream, — 
The light of woman's love. Those languor- 
ous lights 
That tint the rosy cheek of virgin day 
When, lured by twilight, she approaches 

night's 
Mysterious bridal chamber, — fair are they, 
But not so fair, so radiant, so divine 
As in the souls of noblest women shine. 



133] 



Ki 



TO ONE WHO BADE ME SING 

THOU bidst me sing; 
Oh Lady, say not so; — 
Once long ago, 
Where silent waters flow 
And nodding lilies grow, 
I listened to the lute's low murmuring; 
And while I lingered there 
One tiny string, 

By Love's soft finger vexed, ^ 

Sang to the listening air 
A note so pure and clear 
Methought the angels paused to hear, 
Sang out alone 

One moment thus its wondrous tone. 
And broke, the next. 



My heart has but one song 

When thou art near; — 

Though it appear 

Silent the whole day long, 

A voiceless thing, 

Perhaps, perhaps 'tis better so ;- 

Ah no. 

Bid me not sing! 



[34] 



TTTTTTin 




v^. 



TACOMA 

VAINLY the limner struggles to portray 
Thy weird unearthly beauty. Vainly 
savants may j,^ 

Examine and compare. Wiser to say 
There's nothing can compare. How blind 

are they 
Who think thee of the earth, — some mon- 
strous clod, 
Some unplanned consequence 
Of warring elements! 
Thou art a finger of the eternal God, 
Made manifest in the common light of day 
For common men to see, 
To point in the sublime, majestic way 
Toward the far heavens and forever say, 
"There lies Reality." 



[35] 



SONNET 

Te, Domine, Sequor 

WHEN from Thy path my f reward feet 
have strayed, 
Good Master, and I've sought in sul- 
len pride 
To grope my way alone, Thy light denied, 
Plunging thereby into the deeper shade 
Of gathering despair, — when sore dismayed 
My bruised spirit, vexed and overtried. 
Has turned and from the depths to Thee has 

cried. 
Seeking again the refuge of Thy aid. 
Oh then what rest has come — what wondrous 

calm. 
What radiance lighting the obscurity 
The while in mercy Thou has beckoned me 
Back to the way that I have wandered from. — 
So have I learned in gratitude to bless 
The kindly thorns that chid my wayward- 
ness. 



[36] 



MOTHER AND BABE 



B 



ABY smiling up at me 

With thy wondrous witchery, 
Close those lustrous eyes of thine, 
Oh thou baby mine. 



In their limpid depths serene, 
More of heaven than earth is seen, 
Secrets written there I trow, 
Mortals may not know. 

With thee nestling on my breast, 
This to me the holiest 
Of life's moments, baby mine, 
This the most divine. 

Cease thy artless coquetry, 
Lest thy mother stifle thee 
With the mad impulsiveness 
Of her fond caress. 

Close the eyes where love lights dart, 
Lest the mother's throbbing heart. 
Clasping thee exultingly, 
Break with ecstasy. 

Close them lest the angels, seeing 
Here on earth a heavenly being. 
Take thee back to heaven again, 
Grudging me this pain ! 



[37] 



"'*^ip''^ 




^■^m| y^i I 1 1 1 I i [XH mi ^ ' 



Himllit^^^q^^^;;^ 



ASK NOT AGAIN 

ASK not again that when our eyes have met 
r\ And the full heart for utterance shall 
■^ -^ beseech, 

When hands in mute farewell are clasping yet 
And passionate words are crowding up for 
speech — 




When every quivering pulse beat has become 
Love's loudly pleading messenger, oh, then 
Ask not, I pray you, that the lips be dumb; 
'Tis best perhaps, but — ask it not again! 



[38] 



.||,i';!lii!l!;nTlxffr 




OBSCURED IN DOUBT AND 
SADNESS 

OBSCURED in doubt and sadness as 
in endless night irI 

My pathway lay; 
No star of aspiration shed its radiant light 

Across my way; ihj 

"All, all is but a hideous fantasy!" unto ■*:^' 

My soul I cried; 
''And thou shalt grope in shadows until thou 
dost view 
Life's eventide!" 

But He who doeth all things well vouchsafed 
to me 
A guiding star, 

A purpose, greater than an earthly hope could 
be, 
And nobler far; 

For in upon the darkness of my life there 
shone 
A light divine. 
The light of one sweet soul ; ah, need I say, 
Dear One, 
That soul was thine! 



[39] 



A SONG IN A WOODLAND 



s 



OFT, soft and low 
The streamlet's flow 
Whispered: "I know 
That love is nigh." 
And deeper-toned, 
The forest moaned: 
"Love is enthroned 
In earth and sky." 

Each living thing 
Did loudly sing: 
"Love, love is king, 
Happy are we!" 
And only I 

With wistful sigh 
Did humbly cry: 

"Oh love, forget not me! 



[40] 



SONNET 

A Sonnet is a Momenfs Monument^^ 

IT may, perhaps, be never mine to gain 
Admission into those ethereal bowers 
Where tyrant Love holds carnival and 
showers 
Rich largess of his passion and his pain. 
In striving thus to enter Love's domain. 
To scale the lofty and embattled towers 
That guard his gates, these weary hearts of 

ours 
Do oft beat out their little lives in vain. 

What though such be my fate? What though 

alone 
I wander henceforth in the outer night? 
This moment have I risen to love's height. 
Love's ecstasy this moment have I known. — 
And be God's future what it may for me, 
I'll thank Him for this moment's memory. 



L41] 



3 



A TWILIGHT DREAM 

WHEN twilight comes 
And shadows fall 
From stately domes 
And steeples tall, 
Cloud banners furled 
O'er mountain crest 
Sign to the world: 
"Peace, be at rest.'* 
And from afar 
The swallow greets 
The evening star; 
The throstle meets 
Her mate returned 
From distant flight, 
His rest well earned. 
Awarded. 

Night 
So gently spreads 
With soft caress 
O'er tired heads 
In tenderness, 
Her mantle of 
Tranquillity ; 
While from above 
All silently 

[42] 



...•imrmmTnTrn 



The limpid beams m\ 

Of moonlight fall. §1 

All nature seems 
In Lethe's thrall. 



With drowsy eye, 
The daylight gone, 
At rest I lie 
And dream alone, 
A twilight dream 
Of sweet repose, 
While swift the stream 
Of memory flows. 
Its depth serene 
In turn portrays 
Each tranquil scene 
Of happier days 
When Hope was young 
And Faith could see 
No thorns among 
Life's rosary. 

And in its calm 
Seductive flow 
A voice comes from 
The long ago 
To lull the sense 



[43] 



Of present pain 
And lure me hence 
To youth again, 
Till present days 
Of Hope's despair 
Fade in the maze 
Of memories fair, 
And though the dreams 
Of youth be done, 
A light still gleams 
Of love that's gone. 

Thus may the bloom 
Of youthful years 
Dispel the gloom 
When age appears, 
And when Life's stream 
Has ebbed away 
Thus may I dream 
Into the day 
Of peace untold 
And, waking then 
Hear as of old 
That voice again ! 



[44 J 



IN MEMORY 

FAR down the stretch of the slow mov- 
ing years, 
I longing gaze with my poor mortal 
sight, 
Searching if aught there be of friendly light 

Gleaming across my way that now appears 
Obscured in gloom. The welcoming ray that 
cheers 
The onward faring pilgrim in the night. 
Strive as I may, I cannot see aright 

For blindingmists of ever-lingering tears. 
Then, when the aching heart can bear no 
more. 
Backward I turn to see thy face; and lo! 
A light is all about me, and a glow 

Of rainbow color tints the clouds before; 
And onward striving with untroubled brow, 
I breathe : " Love's memory — that is light 



Us] 



I KNOW NOT WHY 

I KNOW not why, when the mad day is 
gone 
And all the evening stillness round me 
broods, 
Comes fancy oft* times with her fitful moods 
To wake the old unrest. The hours speed on, 
The somber veil of darkness closer drawn, 
Enfolds me, while in deepening solitudes 
Pensive I sit alone till day intrudes 
And swarthy night pales into purple dawn. 

I know not why I seek with faltering hand 
To weave my thoughts in language. Can it be 
That in the after days shall come to me 
One who shall read and know and understand ? 
Then shall the waiting years, whatever their 

number, 
Seem but a summer's night of tranquil slum- 
ber. 



[46] 



V « 



PRINTED BY R. R. DONNELLEY 
AND SONS COMPANY, AT THE 
LAKESIDE PRESS, CHICAGO, ILL. 



I 




°^ 









^^ 














/ ^^'\ ^, 






»°V 





»"V. 











* AT '*^ 










.45°-. 



j?-n«.. -' 



.«5°x> 



^o"^ 



n 



4"' 



<f^ 'o • ft 







A. 







•*°* 







